


everything converges

by doublejoint



Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-13 06:00:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29646825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doublejoint/pseuds/doublejoint
Summary: Ichigo doesn't know how to make a move.
Relationships: Kuchiki Byakuya/Kurosaki Ichigo
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19
Collections: February Ficlet Challenge 2021: Apocalypse No





	everything converges

**Author's Note:**

> For Day 22 of the February Ficlet Challenge: Singularity
> 
> brief mention of past byakuya/hisana

Somehow, everything converges onto Byakuya. Every twisting line straightens out, like Ichigo’s just a kid again lost in the world of his soul, looking for the right ribbon--but they’re all the same ribbon, all connected in some kind of infinity, stretching over the edge. Ichigo doesn’t know much about astronomy, but he’d seen a documentary once about black holes, event horizons and singularities, and at first he’d been able to see himself in one--converging points, grabbing onto things without direction, as it were, but the more time passes the less that seems to be him. If he’s a celestial event, it’s something else; Byakuya is the silence, waiting.

That’s not quite right, though. The comparison doesn’t fit the more he looks at it, square pegs and round holes, the reason he’s always been more of a science person than a literature person. He can’t think that far, or maybe he could if he tried, but there’s no point in it. Byakuya himself probably has a dozen much more apt metaphors hidden in his hair, behind his placid face, tucked away in his hands. 

Right now, Ichigo is in his garden, alone. Byakuya had been called away by a servant after the two of them had spent ten minutes out here, and for a second Ichigo had wondered if it had been Byakuya’s way of avoiding the awkward silence. But he’s got more social graces than that, enough to make Ichigo know when he’s being asked to leave, and Byakuya sure as hell could have shut down Ichigo’s obvious hints at wanting to come over and visit him. Without Rukia, not that she’ll ever let him use her as a pretext again, which is fair. Maybe all of this is stupid; he doesn’t get out to Soul Society as much as he wants, and these sporadic visits won’t be enough--though haven’t they been enough already to lay the grounds for trust on top of the tentative foundation Ichigo and Byakuya had built up before? 

There is a ripple in the pond; a lone fish surfaces to beg for food. Ichigo shakes his head, not that the fish can understand him. Do they hibernate? It’s probably not cold enough yet for that.

The wet leaves, from the earlier rain, squelch under his shoes. Ichigo’s surprised a servant hasn’t been sent to rake them yet, but perhaps Byakuya has a fondness for the messiness of fall. It seems unlikely, but he’s not always a stick in the mud, and it’s always tiny things like this. Ichigo looks up; the sky is bright but still cloudy. 

“Pardon me,” Byakuya says, appearing by Ichigo’s side. 

The fish (or maybe a different one) resurfaces. Byakuya looks at it.

Ichigo wants to make a remark about Byakuya keeping him waiting, but holds his tongue.

“Pretty fish.”

“They are, are they not?”

Two more, identical to the first, reach the surface. Ichigo grins; Byakuya definitely gives into them sometimes. There’s a joke about his seaweed guy in there somewhere, probably.

The quiet that settles around them is lighter as they wander. Ichigo thinks about what Rukia had told him, that her brother believes that one should only speak when one has something to say--he doesn’t hate talking, but he’s used to choosing his words. And to being alone. But if he’s used to being alone, and he’d let Ichigo come with him, then Ichigo can’t say that Byakuya definitely doesn’t return his feelings. But that doesn’t solve how the hell he’s going to make a damn move when Byakuya will barely budge an inch.

* * *

The next time Ichigo comes over, it’s raining, and he makes the tea. He knows where Byakuya keeps his tea leaves, which teapot he tends to use when Ichigo’s over--maybe he has been coming over a lot. He wipes his damp sleeve on his dry one as the water heats up; despite his umbrella he’d still gotten a little wet outside. (Byakuya is perfectly dry, of course.)

The kettle whistles. Ichigo waits for the water to cool down, just enough, counting in his head. A routine like pouring water into a teapot should be relaxing, but it only makes enough time for more thoughts to push and shove each other around in his head. What if he’s being obvious? What if he’s being annoying? Why can’t he just say the words?

What if he just does?

He pours the tea into Byakuya’s cup first, and then his own, and sits down at the table. The rain lashes, suddenly, against the walls and doors, as if the clouds had been flicked from behind in their direction.

“I like you,” Ichigo says, and he’s not sure the words are enough, maybe, for whatever the standards of a noble are--but he’s being honest and forthright about it, and he’s going to firmly kick the ball at Byakuya’s net and it’s up to Byakuya to come up with it squarely in his hands. 

Byakuya barely reacts. The tone of the silence has changed, though, and it has nothing to do with the rain’s harshness dimming. Ichigo sips his tea. It’s not too hot.

“You helped yourself to my tea,” Byakuya says.

“I know where everything is. There’s no sign telling me to keep out of it.”

Byakuya looks thoroughly unimpressed.

“Don’t dodge what I just told you. I mean, if you want to think about it, that’s okay, but don’t be afraid to let me down hard.”

“I wouldn’t be,” says Byakuya. “You have been nothing but honest with me, and you deserve no less than that in return.”

Ichigo is pretty sure that’s a compliment, and fails to suppress a smile twisting at his cheeks, aw, fuck. 

“But please let me reach my point.”

There’s another point to the comment about the tea? Ichigo nods, thumbing over the rim of his cup.

“As I was saying, you helped yourself to my tea. That is not something I would normally allow, though I don’t doubt leaving a sign to stop you would merely provoke you. Rather, I am...glad that you are comfortable doing so.”

Ichigo doesn’t know if he should give an encouraging smile, but Byakuya shouldn’t need it. He knows Ichigo’s feelings, and if this is his circuitous, one-upping way of saying he likes Ichigo back, then--no. Ichigo will let him torture himself for no apparent reason if he’s going to, if he can make himself wait. Byakuya’s fingers tighten around his own cup. Is he embarrassed about this? Ichigo’s the one with very little experience; Byakuya was in a marriage at least as long as Ichigo’s parents’. Even if that was decades ago, and Byakuya hasn’t made any moves on anyone whatsoever since then, doesn’t he remember that? 

“So, yes, I do return your feelings.”

“Say it,” says Ichigo.

(It’s petty, but if Byakuya owes him honesty, he owes him directness, too.)

“I have feelings for you. I wish to be in a relationship with you.”

At that, Ichigo really can’t stop himself from grinning full-out. “Good. Me too.”

When they’re done with their tea, Ichigo’s about to make a move to kiss Byakuya over the table, but Byakuya gets up too fast for him, taking both cups with him. Ichigo grabs his arm as he turns, and Byakuya stays in place, waiting for him. It feels less like catching Byakuya with his hands full, and more like doing what Byakuya wants him to do, though; when he pulls back, Byakuya almost looks self-satisfied.

“I don’t want you leaning on my table.”

“I can live with that,” says Ichigo. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
